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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24676519">In Need of a Generator</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzywhiz/pseuds/dizzywhiz'>dizzywhiz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek-Inspired Fics [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Glee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blaine Being Cute, Cotton Candy Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Future Fic, Humor, I have a cavity, M/M, Vogue!Kurt, also I changed their jobs, and trying real hard, animal crossing does tho!, because i love myself, because their 2020 status was overwhelming 2 me, combining all of beth's tropes, except covid doesn't exist here, happy birthday beth!, kurt being dramatic, like current day, music teacher!blaine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:34:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,764</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24676519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzywhiz/pseuds/dizzywhiz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt takes a relationship quiz in an old magazine, and the results aren't what he expected. Can Blaine prove him wrong?</p><p>Aspects inspired by episodes 5x01 "The Crowening" and 6x08 "Presidential Suite" of Schitt's Creek with hints of adapted dialogue.</p><p>they don’t come in their pants, but hopefully it’s good enough :-)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek-Inspired Fics [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748908</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Sunday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/everylifetime/gifts">everylifetime</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my amazing friend beth! my one true spiderman!</p><p>I tried to think of all the things you said you wanted to read and crammed them all into one Schitt's Creek-inspired fic.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kurt takes the quiz.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Your relationship is in need of a generator, </em>Kurt read. </p><p>
  <em> Huh. </em>
</p><p>“Blaine?” he called from the couch, not looking up from the relationship quiz in his Summer 1991 issue of <em> Major Lady Magazine.  </em></p><p>He’d picked up a crate of vintage <em> Vogue </em> magazines from the antique shop down the street that morning, and a few random others had gotten mixed in, too, from old copies of <em> Major Lady </em> to <em> Cosmopolitan. </em></p><p>It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, and he had no other pressing matters to take care of, so he couldn’t help but indulge. Sue him. He was bored.</p><p>“Blaine!” Kurt shouted again when no reply came.</p><p>
  <em> Nothing. </em>
</p><p>With a huff, Kurt grabbed the magazine and padded into the bedroom, flopping onto the bed next to his husband, who was immersed in that damn <em> Animal Crossing </em>again. </p><p>“I was calling for you,” he said, tugging the earbud out of Blaine’s ear, but Blaine’s eyes remained glued to the screen in his hands.</p><p><em> “Blaine,” </em>he repeated.</p><p>
  <em> Still nothing. </em>
</p><p>Desperate times called for desperate measures, and silly little <em> magazine quiz </em>be damned, they still had a spark. </p><p>Right?</p><p>
  <em> Game time. </em>
</p><p>“Have I ever told you how...<em> sexy </em>it is to walk in here,” Kurt murmured, reaching out to walk his fingers up Blaine’s chest. “And see you...um. What do you call it?”</p><p><em> “Terraforming, </em>Kurt. I’m crafting my island’s landscape,” Blaine mumbled, rapidly pressing the buttons on the joycons. </p><p>Kurt hummed, moving himself up the bed to lay at Blaine’s side, wrapping an arm around his torso and gently kissing his jaw. “Yeah, that.”</p><p>He kept a watchful eye on Blaine as he kissed down to his neck, nipping slightly in that place that never failed to drive Blaine crazy. </p><p>
  <em> Bingo. </em>
</p><p>The Switch fell out of Blaine’s hands, and he leaned his head back against the wall, eyes fluttering closed. </p><p><em> “Kurt, </em>what’s gotten into you?” he murmured, but Kurt just doubled his efforts, moving to nibble his husband’s earlobe, tugging it gently between his teeth.</p><p><em> “Oh, </em>okay,” Blaine mumbled, sinking into it for a moment before something seemed to dawn on him, and he lifted his head up rapidly, looking down at Kurt. “Wait. What’s going on? You hate when I play Animal Crossing.”</p><p>Kurt huffed a sigh, giving Blaine’s cheek a kiss before sitting up. <em> Shit. </em>Blaine saw right through him.</p><p>He reached for the magazine, flipping to the quiz before tossing it at Blaine, biting his lip as Blaine skimmed the page. </p><p>“‘How Electric is Your Relationship’ quiz…” Blaine read out, raising an eyebrow and grinning widely. </p><p>“It says we’re in need of a generator!” Kurt exclaimed, and <em> okay, </em>maybe the stupid quiz had gotten to him a little bit. “It’s fine, though, right? It’s just a garbage quiz, and it doesn’t mean-”</p><p>“A garbage quiz that <em> you </em>apparently took more than once,” Blaine teased, looking up from the page. </p><p>Kurt huffed, narrowing his eyes at him. “It’s probably rigged. You could take it a thousand times and get the same outcome! It doesn’t have to mean we’re boring...does it?”</p><p>“We are <em>not</em> <em>boring, </em>Kurt,” Blaine insisted. “We’ve just...settled into the routine of married life.”</p><p>Kurt groaned, falling back onto the bed. “That means boring.”</p><p>Blaine sighed, putting the magazine aside before reaching out to tap Kurt’s nose playfully. “You know, there would be nothing wrong with...putting in a little work to keep the <em> sparks flying.” </em></p><p>Kurt narrowed his eyes at Blaine. <em> “That’s </em> disgusting.”</p><p>When Blaine just flashed him a grin, Kurt couldn’t help but lean over to kiss it right off his <em> stupid cute face </em> . Blaine just hummed into it, lips soft and pliant, allowing Kurt to <em> take, </em> to <em> prove </em> that they still had that spark, <em> dammit. </em></p><p>“You don’t have to- <em> mm- </em> prove anything- <em> mmph- </em>to a magazine quiz,” Blaine mumbled between kisses as Kurt moved to straddle his lap, holding his face between his hands. </p><p>Kurt pulled away briefly to cock a challenging eyebrow at Blaine, smirking as Blaine’s eyes grew darker. “Maybe I do,” he said lowly before leaning down for another kiss, biting his husband’s lower lip <em> just </em>hard enough to get that response from him every time, and-</p><p>
  <em> Yup. </em>
</p><p>There it was.</p><p>Blaine groaned softly, hands finding Kurt’s hips and pulling him closer as they kissed. Kurt worked Blaine’s mouth open gently, languidly working his tongue in ever so slightly, just teasing, and <em> fine. </em> He was <em> totally </em>trying to prove something.</p><p>As Blaine’s grip on his hips tightened, he was starting to think maybe it was <em> working. </em></p><p>“This is- <em> mm- </em> very unscheduled of you- <em> oh </em>,” Blaine muttered as Kurt began kissing down his neck again, sucking lightly under his jaw. </p><p>
  <em> Ugh. </em>
</p><p>If Blaine was still talking, still <em> thinking, </em> it definitely <em> was not working. </em></p><p>Kurt sighed, pulling away slightly and leaning their foreheads together.</p><p>“The very fact that we have gone back to <em> scheduling sex </em> means we are boring, Blaine. We haven’t done that since <em> high school.” </em>He shifted to sit fully on Blaine’s lap, legs splayed around him.</p><p>“We only did that in high school because we needed to make sure we had the house to ourselves,” Blaine defended, running his hands up Kurt’s sides, under his shirt. “And we only do it now because we need to make sure our jobs don’t take over. You know that.”</p><p>Kurt’s eyes fluttered closed, sinking into the feeling of his husband’s warm hands, arching slightly against him with a little roll of his hips. “Hmmm,” he acknowledged, nudging their noses together. “Still boring.”</p><p>He smiled as Blaine kissed him softly, undeniably melting under his husband’s touch. “I love you, though,” Blaine murmured. “That’s all that matters, right?”</p><p>Kurt huffed a laugh, pulling away again to playfully glare at Blaine.</p><p>“You’re such a cheeseball,” he groaned, swatting his arm playfully. “Why did I even marry you?”</p><p>“Because...” Blaine grinned devilishly, suddenly lifting up to switch their position, swiftly flipping Kurt and pinning him into the mattress. “You love it. You love <em> me. </em> And… you love <em> fucking </em>me.”</p><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p>Maybe it <em> was </em>working.</p><p>“Oh do I?” Kurt murmured coyly, reaching up to thread his fingers of one hand through Blaine’s hair, the other hand sliding into the back pocket of Blaine’s jeans. “Tell me more.”</p><p>“Well…” </p><p>Instead of saying anything more, Blaine maintained suddenly heated eye contact as he lowered his body weight fully onto Kurt, slotting their hips together, and <em> okay, </em> he was half-hard against Kurt’s hip already, because <em> of course he was, </em> Blaine was <em> always </em>ready to go.</p><p>And Blaine was right. It <em> was </em> - okay, it <em> partially </em> was - why Kurt married him.</p><p>Kurt hummed lowly in the back of his throat as Blaine began kissing his neck, hitting that <em> exact </em>pattern that got him going every time. Blaine had perfected the winning combination ages ago, but somehow, it never got old.</p><p>“I could always- <em> mm… </em>go for a refresher,” he breathed out, eyes fluttering as he tilted his head back to give Blaine more access. </p><p>“I thought so,” Blaine mumbled against his neck, sucking lightly right over Kurt’s pulse point and <em> fuck. </em>“Maybe we can-”</p><p>Blaine’s phone was suddenly going off on the nightstand, playing Rachel’s ringtone, and Blaine was off of Kurt in a second, lunging to answer it.</p><p>
  <em>Dammit.</em>
</p><p>Rachel was carrying their child, after all. They needed to pick up every call, <em> just in case, </em> even if it completely ruined the mood<em>. </em></p><p>But of course, it wasn’t about the baby at all. Or at least, not really.</p><p>Rachel just wanted to know if they’d gone to that farmers market by Central Park that morning, and if they’d remembered to pick up some of her favorite Meyer lemons because they’re hard to find anywhere else, and <em> don’t they want her cravings to be satiated because it’ll make her happy and then the baby will be happy, too, and it’s the </em> least <em> they can do for her noble sacrifice, anyway. </em></p><p>Of course they had gotten the <em> damn </em>lemons.</p><p>Because they were boring.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Monday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Blaine hatches a plan.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I have an idea!” Blaine announced the next morning, plopping down in the chair across from Kurt at the kitchen table.</p><p>Kurt groaned, glaring into his cup of coffee like it had done something to offend him.</p><p>“It’s a little early for ideas, honey.”</p><p>“No, I promise you’ll like this one…” Blaine paused for dramatic effect, and Kurt looked up, quirking an inquisitive eyebrow at him.</p><p>“I’m listening.”</p><p>“Just… Give me a week. It’s my spring break, remember? I will use it to prove to you that we’ve still <em> Got It.” </em>  Yes, Kurt could <em> hear </em> the capitalization in Blaine’s voice, whatever <em> “it” </em>was that they supposedly had. </p><p>Kurt narrowed his eyes at his husband, huffing.</p><p>“Really. You want a week to what, woo your own husband? That sounds like something a marriage counselor would prescribe as a last resort,” he deadpanned, but Blaine just grinned.</p><p>“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I’ve got it all planned out,” Blaine boasted, and <em> really? </em>When did Blaine plan this?</p><p>It was <em> way </em>too early in the morning.</p><p>“Fine. You have until Friday,” Kurt sighed, because <em> whatever. </em> Maybe he’d get laid off-schedule for once. <em> Please. </em> At the very least.</p><p>And then Blaine was up out of his chair, and then he was practically in Kurt’s lap, smacking a kiss to his lips with a sweet hum.</p><p>“You know,” Blaine mumbled between kisses. “It could be worse.”</p><p>Kurt just hummed in acknowledgement, focused on chasing his lips, finding the chance to deepen a kiss - not that they had extra time, - but Blaine pulled back, looking at him with a dramatically grave expression.</p><p>“We could be a <em> ‘total power failure.’” </em></p><p>Kurt smacked his arm.</p><p>He was <em> so </em>burning that magazine.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Tuesday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Blaine tries...and it doesn't go as planned.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tuesdays <em> sucked. </em></p><p>They <em> always </em> sucked. Isabelle had dubbed them “Fun Meeting Tuesdays” at Vogue and <em> no, </em> there was <em> nothing </em>fun about them. </p><p>But this <em> particular </em>Tuesday didn’t seem so bad.</p><p>Since Blaine had the entire week off from teaching and had so <em> nobly </em> promised to spend his free time focusing on their marriage, Kurt couldn’t help but have high expectations. A candlelit dinner, perhaps, cheesecake for dessert, or maybe something <em> else </em>entirely...</p><p>The smell of a burning <em> something </em> coming from the kitchen was <em> not </em>what he had in mind.</p><p>“Blaine?” he called tentatively as he stepped inside the apartment. “Uh… you okay?”</p><p><em> “Shit- </em> Yeah! I’m- <em> fuck- </em>I’m good!”</p><p>He was so obviously <em> not good. </em></p><p>Kurt coughed as he came into the kitchen, air thick with smoke. <em> “God, </em>Blaine, what did you do in here?”</p><p>Blaine turned around from the oven, and <em> fuck, </em> he looked pitiful. His face was crestfallen, flour smudged on his cheeks and all over the apron he insisted upon wearing when he baked and- was that <em> chocolate </em>on his nose? </p><p>“I was going to surprise you with cookies,” he sighed, gesturing lamely to the burnt cookie sheet. “Twice a year, y’know? I wanted to try a new recipe, but…”</p><p>Kurt frowned, frustration about his shitty day at work gone by the wayside because <em> dammit, </em> his husband was sad and he was <em> trying </em> and it was so <em> cute. </em></p><p>“Come here,” he murmured, tugging Blaine into his arms, flour-y apron and all. “Why’d you do all this?”</p><p>Blaine sunk into his arms with a sigh, immediately nestling his face into Kurt’s shoulder like he always did, practically like a magnet. </p><p>“Part of my plan,” he mumbled into the crook of Kurt’s neck, and Kurt was pretty sure he melted a little because Blaine had just gotten even <em> cuter. </em></p><p>“Oh, honey. I’m sorry.” </p><p>Kurt rubbed small circles into Blaine’s back, and Blaine heaved a sigh, shaking his head a little. </p><p>“It’s fine. It’s <em> fine. </em>It’s only Tuesday,” he said, seemingly more to himself than anything else, before pulling back and looking at Kurt. “I’ve got all week, right?”</p><p>“Mmm, you do. And you’ve <em> also </em>got a little something…” </p><p>Kurt leaned in closely before slowly licking the chocolate off his husband’s nose, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he heard Blaine’s breath hitch.</p><p>Maybe their evening wasn’t ruined after all.</p><p>“Have I ever told you how <em> good </em>you look in that?” he murmured lowly, sliding his hands steadily down to the small of Blaine’s back, tugging gently at the knot holding the apron together.</p><p>“Not recently,” Blaine whispered, eyes flicking to Kurt’s mouth. Kurt hummed, slowly moving them to crowd his husband against the kitchen counter, slotting their hips together.</p><p>He leaned in to brush his lips against Blaine’s, teasingly, inhaling before moving to kiss him fully, and-</p><p><em> Fuck, </em> it must have been the flour or the smokey air or <em> something </em> because Kurt was suddenly coughing<em>, sputtering, </em>really, and Blaine was scrambling for a glass of water, and-</p><p>And the moment was gone.</p><p>
  <em> Dammit.  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Wednesday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Blaine gets distracted.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt’s hair was <em> not </em>cooperating.</p><p>
  <em> Rude. </em>
</p><p>He glared at his reflection in the mirror, sticking his tongue out slightly in concentration as he tried in vain to fix that <em> one </em>piece of hair that just wouldn’t-</p><p>Blaine was suddenly there in the mirror, arms sliding around Kurt’s waist from behind, and Kurt did <em> not </em>have time for this.</p><p>“I don’t have time for this,” he huffed, flicking his comb through his hair to no avail. “I’m late.”</p><p>“I know. But I have a request,” Blaine murmured, voice warm and sleep-heavy and <em> right </em>in Kurt’s ear, and he couldn’t help but shiver, sinking back into his husband.</p><p>He was running late - <em> so </em>late, - but what would another minute or two matter…?</p><p>“Mmm. I told you you didn’t have to wake up early with me this week,” he murmured, eyes fluttering closed as Blaine kissed his jaw softly.</p><p>“I wanted to. But anyway, my request. <em> I </em>am going to text you.”</p><p>Kurt opened his eyes, and Blaine’s reflection was grinning at him. He couldn't help but notice that <em>damn, </em>they looked good together, even at seven in the morning, but wait. <em> Huh? </em></p><p>“You’re going to text me. That’s your big plan?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Is this part of that whole...generator thing? Because I told you, honey, you really-”</p><p>“Eh eh eh,” Blaine chided, pulling Kurt closer and swaying them gently. “I’m going to send you texts all day, and you’re going to read them, but don’t answer. Just...let me.”</p><p>Kurt sighed, shaking his head fondly. Blaine wasn’t about to give up, and he knew it. </p><p>Plus, he was curious.</p><p>“Fine,” he relented, turning around in Blaine’s arms to kiss him once, gentle but lingering. “Not sure how you can get the <em>sparks flying</em> through text, but I’ll let you try.”</p><p>Blaine’s face broke out into a wide smile, eyes crinkling at the corners and all. </p><p>“Challenge accepted.”</p><p> </p><p><b>From Blaine (7:47am): </b>Hey you. I know you just left for work, but I thought I’d go ahead and remind you how sexy you look in those pants. I love you (and your ass).</p><p><b>From Blaine (8:36am): </b>You know what I just realized? Those were the pants you wore that night we went out dancing with Elliott, weren’t they? That time you looked so good I had to pull you into the bathroom...remember that?</p><p><b>From Blaine (8:37am): </b>I know we’d always said we’d never go for the seedy bar bathroom cliche, but...I’m glad we did. Don’t think I would’ve made it out of there alive otherwise.</p><p><b>From Blaine (8:46am): </b>Here Lies Blaine: Death By Skintight Jeans</p><p><b>From Blaine (8:48am): </b>Poetic, don’t you think? Symbolic for us. And really, what a way to go.</p><p><b>From Blaine (9:16am): </b>If only Blaine Warbler knew then what he knew now. You were a teenage dream and then some…</p><p><b>From Blaine (9:17am): </b>Don’t get mad at me for that one. I know you think it’s too cheesy when I talk about that song. But it’s our song, Kurt! Even with the not so great memories...it’s still ours.</p><p><b>From Blaine (9:21am): </b>Though I just realized, you can’t get mad at me. You can’t answer! </p><p><b>From Blaine (10:47am): </b>Did you wear those pants on purpose?</p><p><b>From Blaine (11:51am): </b>Spring break is boring. It’s nice to have a break from the kids, but I wish I could spend it all with you. Maybe next year you can take some time off, and we can go somewhere.</p><p><b>From Blaine (11:52am): </b>With little Feta.</p><p><b>From Blaine (11:57am): </b>I can’t wait to be dads with you.</p><p><strong>From Blaine (12:13pm): </strong>You totally wore those pants on purpose, didn't you?</p><p><b>From Blaine (12:14pm): </b>Okay, okay. Your pants distracted from the task at hand. I was going to tell you some secret things that I love about you. Some that might surprise you.</p><p><b>From Blaine (12:15pm): </b>I love your bedhead.</p><p><b>From Blaine (12:23pm): </b>I love the dimples in your back, right above your ass.</p><p><b>From Blaine (12:57pm): </b>I love your ears. How can a person have cute ears?</p><p><b>From Blaine (12:59pm): </b>I love how you roll your eyes when I call you baby. But you blush, too, so I think you like it. Baby.</p><p><b>From Blaine (1:04pm): </b>I love yoURasdln23kj</p><p> </p><p><b>From Kurt (2:07pm): </b>Blaine? I know I wasn’t supposed to answer, but where’d you go?</p><p><b>From Kurt (3:37pm): </b>Honey?</p><p><b>From Kurt (4:16pm): </b>Did you lose your phone in between the couch cushions again?</p><p><b>From Kurt (4:37pm): </b>Or should I be offended that there are only four things you love about me, and they’re all shallow?</p><p><b>From Kurt (5:08pm): </b>Well, I’m on my way home. Hope you didn’t lose yourself in the cushions, too. </p><p> </p><p>“Blaine?” Kurt called as he shuffled inside their apartment, toeing off his shoes. “You home?”</p><p>
  <em> No answer. </em>
</p><p>“If he’s playing that stupid animal game again, I swear,” he mumbled under his breath as he walked into the living room, and <em> yup. </em></p><p>There Blaine was, cute as ever, eyes glued to the TV as he ran his <em> stupid </em> villager with the <em> stupid </em> bowtie - because <em> of course </em> it was wearing a bowtie, and a fedora, too - around an island he had clearly spent <em> way </em>too much time on.</p><p>Okay. He looked <em> really </em>cute playing that game.</p><p>But if Blaine was going to play a game, Kurt could too.</p><p>And so Kurt just stood in the entrance of their living room, arms crossed over his chest, glaring exaggerated daggers at his husband and just <em> waiting. </em></p><p>
  <em> Notice me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Come on. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I dare you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Notice me. </em>
</p><p>Nothing.</p><p><em> “Ahem.” </em> Kurt cleared his throat dramatically, <em> very </em>much enjoying the way Blaine practically jumped out of his skin and whipped his head around.</p><p>“Kurt! You’re home!” he practically squeaked (Blaine could <em> squeak?), </em>eyes lighting up. “Wait, shit- I must have lost track of time, where’s my-”</p><p>“Did you check the cushions?” Kurt asked dryly, watching Blaine scramble and dig around in the cushions and, of course, there was his phone.</p><p>“You know,” he mused, slowly walking over to stand in front of the couch where Blaine sat. “I thought you were going to be texting me all day.”</p><p>Blaine’s eyes widened in recognition, and he winced, reaching up to grab Kurt’s hips and pull him closer. <em> “Kurt, </em> I meant to. I really did. But then I logged onto Animal Crossing, and Flick was there - you know, the bug guy - and I’ve been <em> waiting </em>for him to come back so I could sell all my tarantulas, and I-”</p><p>He stopped himself with a sigh, leaning forward to rest his cheek against Kurt’s abdomen. “I got distracted,” he admitted, voice small. “I’m sorry, baby.”</p><p>Kurt wanted to be mad. He <em> hated </em> that stupid game and how much time Blaine had spent on it - time he could’ve been spending <em> on Kurt.  </em></p><p>But although he didn’t understand it in the slightest, Blaine <em> loved </em>it.</p><p>Was it really all that bad?</p><p>Kurt hummed, fingers making their way into his husband’s hair, scratching gently at the nape of Blaine’s neck the way he knew he loved. “I suppose you’ve got two more days to convince me,” he said softly.</p><p>Blaine just nodded against Kurt’s belly, and Kurt stood for a moment, just watching his own fingers move through his curls. </p><p><em> God, </em>he couldn't even be mad.</p><p>
  <em>Game over.</em>
</p><p>Kurt let out a relenting sigh, pulling back briefly, only to slide into Blaine’s lap sideways, wrapping an arm around his neck.</p><p>“I’ll tell you what,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss Blaine’s forehead. “Do you want to show me what you’ve been working on?”</p><p>When Blaine looked up, he was positively <em> beaming, </em> eyes sparkling and <em> damn, </em> he <em> really </em>must like that game.</p><p>“Yes! Just give it a try, Kurt, you’ll like it. They have all these <em> clothes, </em>and furniture, and - oh, you can make your own designs, and-”</p><p>Kurt pressed a finger to Blaine’s lips, effectively cutting him off.</p><p>“I will give it a try,” he began slowly, feigning a serious expression. “On one condition.”</p><p>Blaine nodded eagerly, pursing his lips to kiss Kurt’s finger.</p><p>“You let it distract you from <em> me </em> one more time-” Kurt paused to move his finger under Blaine’s chin, tilting his head up and leaning down, nearly kissing him. “-and I will throw that game <em> out the window.” </em></p><p>He did kiss Blaine then, long and languid <em> (I’ll show you what Animal Crossing can’t give you, dammit), </em>and Blaine sunk into it for a moment before pulling back.</p><p>“Like the Soda Stream?” he asked, smiling playfully.</p><p>Kurt just narrowed his eyes at him.</p><p>“Like the Soda Stream. But this time, I really mean it.”</p><p>A couple hours later, Kurt held Blaine against his chest on the couch, kissing along his jaw softly as Blaine rambled on about hybrid flowers and rare butterflies and shrubs.</p><p>As he ran his fingers along Blaine’s inner thigh, listening to the way Blaine’s voice cracked and got <em> just </em>a bit breathy as his fingers crept upward, Kurt decided maybe he didn’t have to throw it out the window, after all.</p><p>He could work with this.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so maybe blaine DID come in his pants this time. we'll never know.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Thursday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Blaine tries again...and it doesn't go as planned.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt’s hopes were beginning to waver for a grand, romantic gesture that would ignite love and heat and <em> passion </em>deep in their bones.</p><p>And that was fine.</p><p>He still didn’t feel like they <em> needed </em>it, but Blaine seemed to insist on proving him wrong.</p><p>Who would Kurt be to turn him down?</p><p>Of course, if he <em> was </em>hoping for something, he figured a surprise would be involved. But Blaine seemed a little <em>too </em>obvious that morning.</p><p> </p><p><b>From Blaine (9:14am): </b>Hey you. What’s the name of that spa you and Rachel like to go to?</p><p><b>From Kurt (9:18am): </b>Hm, you mean the one over on Park? </p><p><b>From Blaine (9:23am): </b>That’s the one.</p><p><b>From Kurt (9:25am): </b>If I didn’t know any better, I might think like you had something up your sleeve…</p><p><b>From Blaine (9:26am): </b>;-)</p><p> </p><p>Kurt spent the rest of the morning - most of his day, really - daydreaming about a massage, a facial, perhaps, or a visit to the sauna… Would Blaine be sending him there on his own, or perhaps it was a couples’ massage? That could be romantic...</p><p>At the very least, Kurt <em> definitely </em> had a spa day to look forward to, and <em> boy, </em>did he need it.</p><p>Yes, he had his husband all figured out.</p><p> </p><p>Kurt had no idea where Blaine was.</p><p>He hadn’t heard from his husband for the rest of the day, and halfway expected to come home to Blaine on the couch playing his Switch, or Blaine in the kitchen making redo cookies, perhaps, but nope.</p><p>No Blaine.</p><p>“Honey?” he called, and wow, he practically had deja vu at this point, considering Blaine had managed to throw him for a loop coming home from work every day that week.</p><p>Kurt checked the kitchen, the living room, and he wasn’t in the bedroom, either, but-</p><p>Oh. The bathroom door was closed.</p><p>“Blaine?” he called, knocking softly on the door. “You in here?”</p><p>“Fine, Kurt!” Blaine’s voice was urgent, overly bright - obviously something was going on. “I’m fine!”</p><p>“Um. You okay? You’re not sick, are you?”</p><p>
  <em> Thud. </em>
</p><p><em> “Shit- </em>no, I just-”</p><p>“Can I come in?”</p><p>
  <em> Pause. </em>
</p><p>“You can’t laugh at me.” His voice was small now, and what the <em> hell </em>was going on?</p><p>“Blaine, sweetie, I won’t laugh,” Kurt said softly, leaning against the door. “Just tell me what’s going on.”</p><p>
  <em> Pause. </em>
</p><p>“I, um. Went to the spa today. Um. For a...spray tan?”</p><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p>That was why Blaine asked about the spa.</p><p>So was Kurt <em> not </em>getting his spa day?</p><p>
  <em> Dammit. </em>
</p><p>“Can I please come in?” he sighed, a little disappointed and a lot confused and, okay, a little annoyed.</p><p>“Yes, well, I, um. I think I spent maybe a <em> second </em> too long in there.”</p><p>Oh no.</p><p>Oh <em> no. </em></p><p>Before Kurt had time to respond, the door was opening, and there Blaine was, dejected and small and <em> so orange. </em></p><p>Kurt’s eyes widened, hand clasping over his mouth to choke back a laugh because he <em> promised </em> not to but <em> holy shit. </em>Blaine. Was. Orange.</p><p>“Is <em> this </em>what you had in mind when you said I looked good with a little color?” Blaine asked sadly, frowning.</p><p>
  <em>Don't laugh.</em>
</p><p>“You- You look-”</p><p>“I look like a <em> cheese puff, </em> Kurt.” Blaine sighed, running his hand through his hair in exasperation and <em> wow, </em> his hands were even <em> more </em>orange, somehow. Was that even possible?</p><p>“Okay, well.” Kurt cleared his throat. <em> Don’t laugh. </em> “You said it, not me.”</p><p>
  <em> Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.  </em>
</p><p><em> Fuck, </em>he looked pitiful.</p><p>“What happened?” Kurt asked softly once he was convinced he wouldn’t break - for the moment, at least.</p><p>Blaine shook his head sadly, looking down at the floor. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “They asked me what I wanted, and I-I’ve never been, so I just let them...do what they thought would be best.”</p><p>Oh <em> no. </em></p><p>“Blaine, honey,” he sighed, pushing the bathroom door the rest of the way open to step forward and take his husband’s hands. “You should always go easy for your first time, you never know how your skin will-”</p><p>“I don’t know how it <em> works, </em>Kurt.”</p><p>Blaine was getting upset - Kurt could tell. His eyes were pleading, lines in his forehead showing, and he sounded so <em> dejected. </em></p><p>“Hey,” Kurt murmured, gently maneuvering his husband to stand in front of the mirror, holding him from behind. “It’s fine. It’ll be fine. It’s barely noticeable.” </p><p>It was <em>so</em> noticeable.</p><p><em> Wow, </em> especially compared to Kurt’s own skin. Blaine was <em> really </em> fucking orange<em>. </em></p><p>Blaine frowned at his reflection.</p><p>“Why don’t you just...take a shower?” Kurt suggested weakly. He had no idea if a shower would do anything. </p><p>It probably wouldn’t.</p><p>“Fine,” Blaine sighed. “I’ll take a shower.”</p><p>“I’ll make dinner while you’re in there, okay?” Kurt murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Some comfort food?”</p><p>Blaine finally relaxed a bit at that, sinking back into Kurt’s arms. “Fettuccine alfredo?” he asked, raising his eyebrows hopefully.</p><p>“You read my mind.”</p><p> </p><p>The fettuccine alfredo was getting cold, and Blaine was <em> still </em>in the shower.</p><p>Kurt didn’t even really <em> like </em> fettuccine alfredo, and his waistline definitely was not built for so many carbs on a weeknight, but Blaine looked <em> so sad, </em>and sometimes his favorite food was the only thing that could cheer him up.</p><p>Cronuts were out of the question because Kurt was <em> way </em>too tired to go back out.</p><p>Cheese puffs were a no, too, because as much as Blaine loved them, Kurt feared they might be a little...triggering.</p><p>So fettuccine it was.</p><p>If that's what Blaine wanted, Kurt couldn't deny him that.</p><p>If Blaine ever came out of the bathroom.</p><p>Kurt stood at the stove, reheating the pasta in the pan <em> again </em> and debating whether to just go ahead and eat, or if he should bring Blaine a bowl <em> in </em> the bathroom - oh <em> god, </em> how high was their water bill going to be? - when <em> finally, </em>the shower turned off, and Blaine emerged, wrapped in his terrycloth robe, and-</p><p>He looked better<em>. </em></p><p>Actually, he looked <em> good.</em></p><p>
  <em>Huh.</em>
</p><p>“Well,” Blaine announced with a shrug, walking into the kitchen. “It only took me nine showers to still look like... <em> this.” </em></p><p>Kurt clasped his hands happily, giving his husband a full once-over. He looked perfectly sun-kissed, surprisingly enough, and <em> yes, </em>this would work, quite nicely, in fact.</p><p>“See, this is good!” he insisted, nodding reassuringly. “This is how you’re <em> supposed </em> to look after a spray tan!”</p><p>Blaine just sighed, sinking into his chair at the kitchen table.</p><p><em> Okay. </em>Still touchy.</p><p>“Here,” Kurt said softly, walking over with bowls of pasta - and then a bottle of wine, for good measure - and setting them in front of Blaine. “Eat, honey.”</p><p>They ate in a silence for a while. Blaine was unusually quiet, but Kurt knew by now to respect it - he clearly felt embarrassed, and as much as Kurt reassured him, Blaine needed to feel better on his own.</p><p>“I wanted to look good for you,” Blaine finally admitted quietly, voice impossibly small as he stared down into his pasta bowl.</p><p>Kurt’s heart sank, and he reached across the table to fold his hand over Blaine’s, holding it gently.</p><p>“Oh, Blaine. Is that why you did this?” </p><p>“I wanted to impress you.” Blaine sighed, looking up at Kurt with wide, vulnerable eyes. “Remember back in high school? When you used to slip bronzer into my moisturizer? I didn’t get let you then, I didn’t want to just have tan hands, but... Sometimes I think maybe that’s how you still <em> wish </em> I looked, so I thought if I had tan <em> everything, </em>then-”</p><p>“Honey, <em> no,” </em> Kurt broke in, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “That was so long ago, and it was silly. I <em> love </em>how you look. I’d still love you if you looked like the Pillsbury dough boy.”</p><p>Blaine cracked a smile at that, letting out a soft, broken chuckle. They just looked at each other for a long moment, Kurt’s thumb rubbing over Blaine’s knuckles in a soothing, rhythmic motion.</p><p>“Besides,” Kurt said softly, slowly grinning. “Wouldn’t it be pretty damn hypocritical if I didn’t?”</p><p>“Well, you <em> are </em>pretty pale…”</p><p>For once, Kurt didn’t have the heart to bite back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Friday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kurt turns the tables.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was time for Kurt to take matters into his own hands.</p><p>Blaine was trying - bless his heart - but Kurt could tell the spray tan debacle had <em> really </em>thrown him off his game.</p><p>If they were going to get the sparks flying, it was Kurt’s turn to light the match.</p><p>Isabelle had given him permission to take a half-day, and with a plan in place, he was ready to go.</p><p>Thankfully, his morning at Vogue flew by, and he caught the subway <em> just </em>as it pulled into the station, and he made it home in record time.</p><p>“Blaine!” he called excitedly as he walked inside. “I have a surprise!”</p><p>“Kurt!” Blaine breathed, face lighting up as he appeared in the entryway. “What are you doing here?” </p><p>Kurt hummed happily as Blaine leaned in to kiss him, and he wrapped his arms around his husband for a moment. “Happy weekend, honey. I got off early, and <em> I </em>have a plan.”</p><p>“Mmm, a plan, you say?” Blaine murmured, peppering kisses to each corner of Kurt’s mouth.</p><p>“I do say. I thought we’d go do something <em> spontaneous </em>this afternoon.”</p><p>Blaine pulled back then, raising a suspicious eyebrow at Kurt. “You. Spontaneous.”</p><p>“Yes! I can be spontaneous, you know,” he said defensively, straightening his posture a little. <em> “Anyway, </em>Rachel was saying that Jesse took her on a tour of this nice little park just outside the city, and I thought we’d check it out. I called this morning and booked us a reservation.”</p><p>“Hmmm… Are you sure about this, Kurt? We could make the most of your afternoon, maybe pick out colors for the nursery or-”</p><p><em> “Blaine. </em> We’re going. Think of it as...an adventure date!” Kurt exclaimed, immediately internally cringing, because <em> really? </em>An adventure date? What did that even mean?</p><p>Who <em> was </em>he?</p><p>“Okay. We’ll go on your adventure date,” Blaine conceded, grinning widely. “It’ll be great!”</p><p> </p><p>It was not great.</p><p>Kurt was standing in the woods. Kurt was wearing a harness. Kurt was wearing a <em> helmet.  </em></p><p>Kurt was staring up into the treetops that he was somehow <em> expected to go up in </em> and climb across a <em> high ropes course. </em></p><p>Kurt was going to kill Rachel Berry.</p><p>“I have to say, Kurt, I’m a little shocked that you agreed to do this,” Blaine said from beside him, looking up at the ropes course. “I know how fearful you are of heights.”</p><p>“Hmm. Well... <em> fearful </em> makes me sound like some kind of Dickensian orphan with a chronic illness,” Kurt deadpanned, attempting to play it off because <em>fuckfuckfuck </em>there was <em>no way.</em> “It’s more...an aversion.”</p><p>Blaine snorted a laugh, bumping his shoulder gently, making Kurt look over, and <em> damn, </em>how did he manage to look so cute in a helmet?</p><p>“I do wish that Rachel was a little more <em>specific </em>when she suggested we go to this <em>park,” </em>Kurt sighed. “But this is going to be fun, I think. For us.”</p><p>
  <em> If we survive. </em>
</p><p>“Yeah!” Blaine grinned, nodding excitedly. “I actually did one of these at summer camp.”</p><p>Of course he did.</p><p>“Yeah, and I can’t imagine who <em> wouldn’t </em>want to dangle 20 feet in the air on a series of shaky logs.” <em>Me. I don't want to.</em></p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes over at Blaine, who just winced.</p><p>“...It’s probably more like 30 feet,” Blaine admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.</p><p>
  <em> Great. </em>
</p><p>“It’s fine!” <em> It’s not fine. </em> “This will be a fun adventure for us.” <em> Kill me. </em> “An adventure date.” <em> Just kill me.</em></p><p>"I think we're ready to go!" their ropes instructor announced, bounding up to them excitedly. Kurt wanted to <em>smack </em>the shit-eating grin right off his <em>stupid face. </em></p><p>"Speak for yourself," Kurt mumbled, staring at his shoes, which - oh <em>god - </em>were already getting muddy.</p><p>He did <em>not </em>want to die in muddy shoes.</p><p>Or a helmet.</p><p>Or a harness.</p><p>“I’ll go first,” Blaine volunteered quickly, reaching over to rub Kurt’s back gently. “Then I can watch you. I’ll give you tips.”</p><p>Kurt watched Blaine masterfully clipped himself in and ascended the ladder, hopping up onto the ledge with a little bounce.</p><p>He made it look <em>easy.</em></p><p>
  <em>Yeah right.</em>
</p><p>“C’mon, Kurt! It’s just a ladder! You can do it,” he called down, and suddenly he looked <em> so </em> high up and <em> so </em> far away and Kurt’s heart was beating <em> really </em>loudly in his ears, and <em>why</em> was his heart beating so loudly?</p><p>
  <em> It’s just a ladder. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You can do it. </em>
</p><p>Kurt took a heavy breath, cautiously approaching the bottom of the ladder and - <em> fuck - </em>fumbling to clip his harness in. </p><p>“You got this, Kurt!”</p><p>
  <em> Right. </em>
</p><p>He managed to make it onto the first rung of the ladder, hands grasping tightly, and he <em> really </em>should have worn shoes with better traction. </p><p>He <em> really </em> should have been <em> anywhere else. </em></p><p>“C’mon, Kurt! You can do it!”</p><p>Slowly but surely, Kurt made his way up the first few rungs of the ladder, and he was <em> doing </em> it, he was <em> really doing it, </em> but then he made the mistake of looking down, and <em> nope. </em></p><p>He already felt <em> way </em>too high up.</p><p>He was shaking like a leaf.</p><p>“You got this, baby. Go, Kurt! Kurt, you’re almost there!”</p><p><em> “Blaine, </em> shut- just. <em> Stop. Please. </em> I need to <em> concentrate </em>here.”</p><p>By some small mercy, Kurt made it, shaky legs and all, and <em> god, </em>that was awful.</p><p>“I knew you could do it,” Blaine said sweetly, greeting him at the ledge with a kiss to his cheek. “I’m proud of you already.”</p><p>Okay. Maybe it wasn’t <em> that </em>awful.</p><p>Of course, Blaine crossed the next obstacle like a champ - swinging logs hanging between the treetops that he had to maneuver across in a sideways shuffle, holding onto the ropes.</p><p>The logs looked <em> really </em> shaky, even under Blaine’s compact weight, and were those ropes fraying? <em> God, </em>they were high off the ground.</p><p>There was <em> no way </em>Kurt was going to be able to do this.</p><p>But Blaine was grinning and waving at him from across the ledge, and dammit, Kurt <em> really </em> wanted to prove to himself - and to that stupid magazine - that they still had <em> passion </em> and <em> excitement.  </em></p><p>He had to try.</p><p>He took a few shaky steps - more like shuffles, really - forward, leaning over to grasp onto the ropes for dear life before slowly stepping on the first log.</p><p>
  <em> Nope. </em>
</p><p>Bad choice.</p><p>It was shaking, and <em> Kurt </em> was shaking, and it was swaying back and forth, and he was holding on tighter than he even thought possible, and his life was <em> flashing before his eyes. </em></p><p>“You can do this, Kurt!” Blaine called from across the ledge, and he looked <em> so </em>far away. “Just one step at a time!”</p><p>Kurt slowly shuffled his way across the first log, heart pounding so loudly in his ears that he <em> knew </em> Blaine was still cheering him on, but he had <em> no </em>idea what he was saying.</p><p>And then it came time for Kurt to cross over to the second log.</p><p>“I-I don’t like this!” he shouted shakily, scrambling to hold on even tighter and squeezing his eyes shut to keep from looking down again.</p><p>“It’s okay, just turn around, then!” </p><p>Kurt’s eyes flew open, and he looked to the left and to the right, considering, but <em> shit, </em>he was basically at the halfway point.</p><p>He couldn’t win either way. </p><p><em>"God, </em>you <em>so </em>owe me a trip to the day spa after this!"</p><p>“Why did you agree to do this when you’re afraid of heights?” Blaine shouted.</p><p>“I didn’t <em> know, </em> Blaine,” he huffed. “But I put down a <em> deposit, </em> and you looked excited, and- and we need a <em>generator</em>, a-a-and <em> here we are, </em> and I am going to <em> die </em> up here. I am going to die with <em> helmet hair.” </em></p><p>
  <em> Ugh.</em>
</p><p>“Kurt, it’s fine!" Blaine shouted frantically. "You were right! That magazine quiz was rigged!”</p><p>
  <em> What? </em>
</p><p>“What?!”</p><p>“Yeah, I-I took it a ton of times this morning when you were at work,” Blaine explained as Kurt crossed over to the second log - <em> finally - </em>and began to shuffle closer. “It just seemed so fishy! And ‘in need of a generator’ is the only answer you can get!”</p><p>
  <em> Seriously? </em>
</p><p>Kurt was 30 feet in the air, risking - no, undoubtedly <em> ending - </em> his life for a <em> fake quiz? </em></p><p>He suddenly felt <em> very </em>ridiculous.</p><p>He probably should have <em>already </em>felt ridiculous.</p><p><em>Shit, </em>he was scared.</p><p>“I feel so stupid!” Kurt groaned, inching across the log. “I <em> failed </em> it, and I felt so bad about it. But I love our relationship!” A step closer. “I love it when you make me cookies, even if they’re just chocolate chip.” Another step. “ <em> Especially </em> when they’re chocolate chip. I love it when you call me baby.” Shuffle. Shuffle. “I even love it when you play Animal Crossing, <em> dammit!” </em> Another big step - almost there. <em> “I love you, </em> and I love <em> us </em> -” Stepping onto the ledge now, so <em> close. “- </em> And I don’t care if we’re exciting or boring because it’s <em> us </em>and that’s what matters!”</p><p>And then Kurt was <em> there, </em> he <em> made it, </em> he was on the ledge, and he was <em> shaking, </em> and Blaine was there too, and Blaine was grabbing him by his arms, and he <em> made it. </em></p><p>
  <em> He made it. </em>
</p><p>“Kurt,” Blaine said softly but firmly, squeezing his upper arms. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”</p><p>Kurt sighed shakily, throwing himself into Blaine’s arms and squeezing him in a hug, ledge be damned.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he practically <em> whimpered </em> into Blaine’s ear - <em> wow, </em>he was losing it. “I’m sorry I needed a stupid relationship quiz to prove that to me. To prove to me how much I love us.”</p><p>Blaine squeezed him tightly around the waist for a long moment before pulling back, kissing him emphatically.</p><p>“You <em> did </em>just do a tree walk 30 feet in the air for us,” Blaine said with a grin, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way Kurt just couldn’t get enough of.</p><p>A tree walk.</p><p>30 feet in the air.</p><p>
  <em> Kurt did that. </em>
</p><p>“I did,” he gasped shakily, a wide smile slowly spreading across his face. “Yes I did.”</p><p>“I love you so much,” Blaine breathed, pulling him close again.</p><p>Kurt sank into Blaine’s arms, helmets knocking together, needing to just <em> be close </em>to him until the shaking subsided.</p><p><em> If </em>it ever subsided.</p><p>“Alright guys!” </p><p>The overly cheerful - and <em>loud, </em>how was he so loud? - voice of their ropes course instructor startled Kurt, bringing him back to the reality that <em> yes, </em>they were still deep in the woods, up in a tree, 30 feet off the ground. </p><p>“That’s one rope down, seven courses to go!”</p><p>
  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>well, that'll do it, folks! one more HBD to beth and if any of the rest of you found this readable, pleeease leave a comment! xo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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